by Carolina Mac
“He must be sleeping,” said Annie. “No movement at all.”
“We’ll come back after dark and take a closer look.”
BLAINE SAT IN his office at home doing research and trying to catch up on reports for Chief Calhoun. When the work became boring his thoughts turned to Annie like they always did when he was alone. She was his soulmate and his life.
Since Race’s death and her divorce from Jesse, she’d been so far removed from her normal self, it was like she was a different person. Why was she spending so much time in Vegas? It wasn’t a happy place for her.
I should call her.
I should also follow up with Arlo Maznik. I need to find out about my father. There are so many unanswered questions about my past.
Blaine pulled the card Jesse had given him out of his wallet where he’d tucked it away and stared at it for a minute. He inhaled a fortifying breath, punched the number into his phone and at the last minute hoped that Jesse’s friend didn’t answer. But he did answer on the second ring, and Blaine had to find the words.
“Mr. Maznik, this is Blaine Blackmore calling. My partner, Jesse Quantrall, gave me your number.
“Yes, hello, Mr. Blackmore, Jesse said you might want to talk to me. How can I help you?”
“Would it be better if we talked in person?” asked Blaine, “I’m sure I’ll have a million questions for you. Maybe we could meet for dinner one night this week.”
“Day after tomorrow I’ll be in Austin on business. I could meet you then.”
“Fantastic,” said Blaine, “I’ll make a reservation at the Capital Grille for seven.”
“I know where that is. Not far from the building where my meeting is. See you then.”
“Oh, Mr. Maznik, just so you know, Jesse had a heart attack this morning and he’s in the hospital.”
“Oh, my God, and he’s so young. Give him my best, would you please?”
“I will.”
He doesn’t know about Jesse’s bad heart.
Blaine entered the upcoming dinner with Maznik into the calendar on his phone, then called Annie in Vegas. She answered on the first ring.
“Hey, sweetheart, how’s Jesse doing?”
“I thought you’d come home right away when you found out, Mom. I’m surprised you’re still in Vegas.”
“I’ve got a couple of things to take care of with Lance’s death and then I’ll be back.”
“I can’t believe Lance died. He looked so healthy the last time I saw him.”
“There’s going to be an autopsy.”
“I see. You’re torn between two traumas.”
“I knew Jesse was in trouble, sweetheart, when I sent him home. He looked worse than he’d ever looked. I should have come with him on the plane.”
“He never should have been in Vegas, Mom. He’s not supposed to work, and flying is not recommended.”
“But he seldom listens, does he?”
“No, he does what he wants, and it isn’t always what’s best for him. He wasn’t awake when I left the hospital, and Brian is only letting the boys in for five minutes at a time.”
“I’ll be home in a day or two and Jesse might be allowed visitors by then,” said Annie. “In the meantime, I’ll check in with Brian and get the details.”
“How’s the case going for Travis, or do you know?”
“He has a new lead and he’s working surveillance on Kristal Ducharme’s partner.”
“Okay, good. He shouldn’t be there alone.”
“Maybe he isn’t alone. There might be Junkers hiding in the trees.”
“Did you see them?”
“Nope. Not once, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t here.”
Annie seems to know a lot about the Junkers.
“You seem to know a lot about the Junkers, Mom, and I don’t think I’ve talked about them much.”
“Umm… maybe Farrell mentioned them.”
“He shouldn’t have.” Blaine scowled.
“Probably was Jesse, then,” said Annie,” We were married, and we had no secrets. We talked a lot.”
“A lot in two fuckin weeks?” Blaine didn’t mean to raise his voice, but it happened in spite of himself.
Annie began sobbing on the other end of the line. “I’m so sorry for what happened, and I realize I disappointed you terribly. I’d give anything to change it.”
Blaine inhaled and tried to say the right thing. “I’m sorry, Mom. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. My case is going badly, and I’m so fuckin upset about Jesse, and a million other things that I’m not even counting.”
Annie sniffled once, then got control of her crying. “How’s Misty? Are things going well on that front?”
“Umm… medium well.”
“Sounds like a steak.” Annie managed a half giggle.
“She testified in court this morning against her ex, and that turned out to be a fuckin circus.”
“Never met him, but from all reports he seems… unstable.”
“That’s a polite term. He’s a violent asshole totally out of control.”
“I once knew someone with almost identical behavior patterns to Brad Mulligan.”
“Oh, yeah, who?”
“My first husband, Matthew. Started off all sweet and attentive, then after the wedding, the real Matthew blossomed. I was a regular in Emergency at Scarborough General.”
“That’s terrible, Mom. You never told me that.”
“Not something I like to talk about, honey. Better forgotten.”
“Obviously, you haven’t forgotten a minute of it.”
“I guess that’s true.
“Let me know when you book your flight and I’ll pick you up,” said Blaine.
“Thanks, honey. I will.”
AFTER DARK, Travis drove the rented Jeep back to Nick Valadero’s house in north Vegas with Annie riding shotgun and parked down the block behind a Chevy pickup. He could see Nick’s front door clearly from his vantage point but couldn’t be seen.
“I’ll do the car first, then if he goes out, I’ll catch the house.”
“What if he comes out when you’re by the car?”
Travis grinned. “Then I’ll run like hell.”
“Be careful.”
“Always.” Travis left the Jeep, crossed the road and disappeared. He was back in minutes and slid in behind the wheel. “Done.”
“Good,” said Annie. “I didn’t want you to get caught.”
He blew out a long breath. “Me neither.”
About twenty minutes in, the big Corvette engine rumbled to life in the tiny driveway and Nick passed the Jeep smashing the residential speed limit.
“Fast driver,” said Annie.
“See anyone else in the car?”
“Nope, just him.”
“I thought he was alone too.” He started up the Jeep. “I’m going to move closer.”
“The lights are all off except that lantern-thing by the door with the bugs all around it.”
“Hope Nick is out for the evening,” said Travis. “I won’t have to rush so much.”
“Can I come with you?” asked Annie.
“No, you may not. You keep your beautiful ass in the Jeep.”
Travis left the Jeep, ambled down the opposite side of the street from Nick’s house, rounded the block and tramped through the neighbor’s yard at the rear of Nick’s property. He jumped the fence and jogged across Nick’s postage stamp yard. No grass. Gravel crunched beneath Travis’ boots as he skirted around a tiny fish pond.
The back door was locked. Not a great lock for security—standard subdivision fare—Travis snapped on a pair of latex gloves, pulled the wizard out of his pocket and was inside in sixty seconds. He did what he came to do and retraced his steps to the Jeep.
“How did it go?” asked Annie.
“Perfect.”
ZACH FINISHED off the second box of Girl Guide cookies after his dinner of sausages and beans. He sat in the dark in the kitchen not risking any lights
. He was enjoying the solitude of his squat and planned to stay there permanently. Lamar was dead, the police were finished with the house, so who would find out or who would care? He had no fear. If they found him they would send him back to the hospital. So what?
He sang as he cleared the table and carried his plate and fork to the sink. “Mary had a little…” He stopped short and listened.
Was someone on the porch?
He crept to the front window, pulled the drape back a fraction of an inch and peered out. The streetlights were on and he could see most of the sagging porch and the rotten steps from the front window. Nobody there.
He plodded down the hall to check the back and realized he couldn’t see the yard because of the plywood where the glass had been. He’d have to look out the bedroom window. He’d been sleeping in Lamar’s bedroom because it had the biggest bed and the thickest mattress. The beds at the hospital needed new mattresses, but Doc McIntyre said they didn’t have the budget for it. The bedroom across the hall only had a small cot and the rest of the room was filled with boxes and junk. Zach peered into the yard and a swath of moonlight lit up the narrow lane behind the chain link. Nobody there either.
He shuffled back to the living room, made sure the drapes were tightly closed and turned on the flat screen TV hanging on the wall. The rest of the furniture was shit, but the TV was great. Lamar got a lot more channels than they got in the hospital. That was another thing Doc McIntyre said—the hospital would never have money for the sports channels.
Too bad the doc’s dead. I liked him a lot. Is his house empty too?
Zach slept through part of the game, then woke up for the second half, just as the cheerleaders ran off the field. When the game ended, he watched the first part of the news and the blonde with the perfect hair and red lipstick was talking about how sad it was a homeless man drowned in the river. Anger boiled up inside Zach thinking about that filthy, mean homeless guy who tried to drown him, and he couldn’t stand to look at her. He pressed the power button on the remote and went to bed.
TRAVIS RETURNED TO the hotel with Annie after their trip to Nick Valadero’s house. The suite seemed empty without Jesse, and Travis wanted nothing more than to go home and sit with Jesse in the hospital, but he had a job to do and so did Annie.
She went into her room to get ready and Travis did the same. He showered, shaved and cleaned up for the poker game. He wasn’t clear on what the game plan should be now that they had definite suspects. Should they still be watching the players and trying to figure out if other people were involved? Or should they be concentrating all their efforts on Kristal and Nick? With no boss on the scene and no Blacky to call, he’d have to trust his own instincts.
When Annie was ready and looking hotter than he’d ever seen her in a slinky red dress, they took the elevator upstairs. Travis tapped on the door of the poker suite and Rudy greeted them. “Major Bristol and Mrs. Powell, what a nice surprise. I’ve just had a couple of seats open up.”
“Sorry, Rudy, I should have called,” said Annie. “We had a busy day.”
“No problem, you’re both here now. I think there are a couple of new players at the table you haven’t met. Let me introduce you.”
Travis sat down in seat four and tried not to look surprised when Rudy introduced him to Jack Prima and Greg Shields, two of the Junkers.
“Nice to meet you, Major Bristol,” said Jack, “you a regular here?”
“Played a bit this week,” mumbled Travis, “Can’t stay in Vegas forever.”
The seat next to Annie, seat six, was empty and had a reserved button in front of the cup holder. About an hour after they arrived, Nick came in alone and took the seat. No sign of Kristal Ducharme.
Is homicide still holding her?
Nick Valadero was tall, with movie star looks, good teeth and perfect dark hair—a definite lady killer if he chose to be. If he was Kristal’s partner and the one behind all the murders, he was killing men with money and not women.
Travis concentrated on his cards and listened as Jack chatted Nick up in a friendly way. “Is this the only big game in town, or have you played in some others?”
“Guess I’ve tried most of them,” said Nick. “Some are better than others. I like the players at this one, at least most of the time.”
“What other hotels have good games?” asked Greg, getting in on the conversation.
“Mirage sometimes hosts one, and Aria and Wynn. You can make the rounds. Most times you should call and reserve a spot.”
“Good advice,” said Jack and put in a huge raise.
Travis folded. He’d been card dead since the moment he started.
THE RED BASEBALL cap bobbed down the dark alley towards the street. The kid had his right hand in his pocket with his fingers wrapped tightly around the gun. He’d taken the bus to the end of the line and practiced shooting at tin cans in the dump all afternoon. The noise made the rats run and he tried to shoot them too, but they were lightning fast. He needed more practice, but ammo was so fuckin expensive. He’d used his money and all his brother’s stash hidden in the bottom drawer of his dresser.
I won’t have any trouble shooting the loony guy. He’s old and slow.
The kid skulked around behind the row of houses, trudging down the dark narrow laneway. He knew which one belonged to Lamar because he’d come in the back way dozens of times. Moonlight lit the way and he didn’t need to use the flashlight he’d brought.
He sucked in a quick breath and stifled a yell when he passed one of the neighbor’s yards and a big black dog ran at him barking and growling. The dog jumped against the fence and bounced back into his own yard. The wild mutt couldn’t get out.
Hope that fuckin mutt didn’t wake old loony up.
He sneaked up onto Lamar’s saggy porch and one of the boards creaked under his weight. He winced, stood still as a statue and listened. No movement inside. He turned the knob and the door was locked.
Lamar left a key for his brother to use when he wasn’t home. He trusted them to pick up the drugs for the route if he wasn’t home, make the deliveries and leave the money when they were done. Sometimes Lamar would give them some for personal use when they had a good day. He missed Lamar and his brother. Being alone was the shits.
Where was that key?
The kid dropped down to his knees and felt all along under the threshold. Nothing there. No doormat. Then he checked the window sill of the little window halfway down the porch. Nothing there. He tried above the window and felt something. Yep, that was it. He brushed the dirt off the key on his pantleg and tried it in the lock.
Click.
He turned the knob and the door opened. One tiny squeak, but not enough to wake up loony man.
Moving slowly, he stepped into the back hall not making a sound.
ZACH HEARD footsteps on the back porch and got out of bed. He waited inside the back door, his eyes becoming accustomed to the darkness. He figured whoever it was would get in eventually. The house was old and not too secure.
The sound of metal on metal meant whoever was trying to get in had a key. Zach listened as the key went into the lock. Then he heard the click as the lock yielded. He got ready. The door opened slowly, and the kid stepped into the hallway pointing a gun in front of him.
Zach took him from behind in one swift motion, pressing an iron forearm across the kid’s throat. He twisted the kid’s head and listened for the crack that always made him smile when he was in the war zone. A clean kill. The gun dropped out of the kid’s hand and clattered to the floor as the kid went limp and his body sagged in Zach’s arms.
Zach dragged the kid a few feet down the hall to the closet, opened the door and shoved him in. The ball cap had fallen off as he twisted the kid’s head. Zach picked it up and tossed it in the closet. He closed the door, picked up the gun and went back to bed.
CHAPTER NINE
BREAKFAST AT THE QUANTRALL ranch wasn’t a happy affair. Brian, the oldest and a well-respected surge
on, occupied the seat at the head of the long hand-hewn dining table. Bob, blond-haired and paler than usual, sat on Brian’s right. Tyler, dark complexioned and brooding, slouched at the opposite end beside Charity in her high chair. Paul, looking more and more like Bob, sat next to Tyler. Jesse’s seat was noticeably empty.
Paul usually ate breakfast at home with his wife, Wendy, their house being a half mile away on the other end of the vast ranch property, but Brian wanted to speak to them all together this morning. Since their father, Lou had passed away, Brian assumed the role—although none of his brothers voted him in—and enjoyed telling his brothers what to do and the best way to get it done.
“Jeeze, Brian, do you have to wear that doom and gloom face?” asked Paul. “We feel bad enough about Jesse already. I bet I didn’t sleep more than an hour last night.”
“I know y’all are hurting and concerned for our brother, but I wanted to reassure you that he is improving. Not noticeable yet, but his vital signs are stronger and a couple of other tests I’ve run showed a positive turn.”
Charity threw a handful of Cheerios from her tray onto the table and Tyler smiled at her. “Don’t throw food, baby.”
“Annie offered to help with Charity,” said Bob. “She’ll be phoning you today.”
“We’re okay,” Tyler leaned over and kissed Charity, “aren’t we baby girl?”
“When will Jesse be moved out of the cardiac unit and into a regular room of his own?” asked Bob.
“A few more days,” said Brian. “As soon as his strength begins to return. I’ve ordered complete rest for today. That means no visitors.”
“He’ll need his strength,” said Tyler. “That girl he met at Boots a few nights ago is calling him every day.”
Brian shook his head. “Don’t encourage her, Ty. Jesse is in no condition to add more stress to his life.”
“I’ll tell her to cool it,” said Tyler.
“Good idea,” said Bob. “We’ve got enough problems without adding a new one.”
BLAINE AND FARRELL stood in the morgue at nine fifteen, waiting for the autopsy to begin on the John Doe, found in the river not far from the spot where Doctor McIntyre had been found. Blaine had missed McIntyre’s autopsy the day before when Jesse had his heart attack but had obtained a copy of the report and read it thoroughly. McIntyre was killed by a blow to the head with a heavy blunt object, probably a rock, although there was no rock that matched the size and weight estimated by the pathologist, found near the Congress Avenue Bridge. The report confirmed that the doctor did not drown. McIntyre was dead before he went into the river.